All hallow's eve

You know you have a good friend when you hang up on her four times (five, actually, but she'll insist she hung up first that last time) in two hours and she still (mostly) takes your phone calls. Florida Girl and I have been friends for 10 years now and we've had some very strange conversations over the years, but tonight's took our intellectual discourse to a whole new level. Since this is a family blog, I can't tell you about the underwear conversation, but I can relate this snippet:

Me: So I was babysitting, and when I went to the bathroom, the dog didn't even notice me. I just walked right by it, me, a stranger, and the dog didn't even lift its head as I walked by.

FG: What kind of dog was it?

Me: I don't know, it was a DOG.

At some point, I think I even described it as a 'yellow' dog, but FG said as a descriptive, I was falling pretty short of the mark. There was also a bit about trick o' treaters at FG's place and how a neighbor came up to her door:

FG: She says she lives across the street from me. I've never even seen her before. That's what happens when you have bad eyesight.

Me: You don't meet your neighbors when you have bad eyesight?

FG: No, they're blurry. Blurry people with dark hair. Who knows who lives across the street when you have bad eyesight?

FG is possibly the only person in the world with whom I can have such ridiculous conversations. One of these days, when this blog is no longer so Disneyfied, I'll think about telling you about FG's theory about the world economy and underwear. Fascinating stuff, but maybe you just had to be there.

Dear Seema

It's always easier to give advice than to take and follow advice. Lately, I've been dispensing advice with all the heart of an ice-cube and just as chillingly rational too. For all I know, I could be spewing words and directing people the wrong way. Or I could be right, and be responsible for putting people onto the right path. Advice giving requires acknowledging the other person might have issues you don't know about, might have reasons for not acting on your advice (ie 'been there, done that'), or simply may not be able to act for reasons you don't know about.

It's easy to say what someone should do or not do when you're on the outside looking in. But when you're the takee, it's a lot harder because sometimes advice means change, and no matter how resiliant and adaptive you can be, change is never easy -- especially when it means acknowledging your own behaviors and character might be self-sabotaging. The other thing is, making these changes takes a long time. It's not something a person just wakes up one day and says, "I will now be like THIS" -- it's a series of small steps, and each one is just as difficult as the preceeding one. Acknowleding that, I think, is a major step in the right direction.

And since I'm doling out the tough love as of late, anyone want some? (g)

November blog sweeps

I suddenly have so many ideas of things I want to blog about; lately the pickings have been slim because I have a rule about not blogging about personal personal stuff, work, or about family or friends*. I also don't want to talk about politics that often because I'm aware not everyone who reads this blog is a raging liberal like yours truly, and besides, I'm kind of lazy in having to keep up with all the Stuff (tm) that's going on**. The same thing goes for a subject-matter blog, where trying to keep up with all the news on one subject would drive me crazy. Plus, there's that rule of blogging I violate on a daily basis: I average one post a day, if that. Convention dictates that bloggers need to blog about 12 to 15 times a day, but that's impossible with the day job; I'm pretty sure my employer would not be happy if I started blogging on the job.

That being said, I'm following the cue from the television networks and trying to come up with a November-sweeps schedule, in an attempt to boost this blog's ratings***. Here are some of the Very Important(tm) topics I'm contemplating:

• Why 'Top Sekrit' or 'Lost' diaries make for Very Bad Historical Fiction
  
• Why I hate call-waiting and think it's the worst invention EVER
  
• And while we're on communication devices, what's up with the lack of cell phone ettiquette?
  
• Is Starbucks price-gouging their coffee?
  
• And while we're on food, does anyone else think Subway sandwiches, while low on the caloric intake are kind of soggy and blah?
  
• I only have two feet, which means I can only wear one pair of shoes at a time. So why do I have nine pairs of shoes sitting in my foyer, including two pairs of sneakers? BTW, this doesn't include any shoes that may or may not be lurking in my hall closet or in other locations across the state.
  
• And speaking of shoes, why is that I walk into my huge walk-in closet every morning and think I have nothing to wear? I may also have other closets in other locations across the state.

These topics, and MORE, coming in November!

* The RL family and friends who do make an appearance in this blog have been warned ahead of time and on occasions, their appearance has even been discussed before the actual blogging occurs.
** I am contemplating a Friday round-up of the week's news, just so I can be lazy one day of the week and snark
*** I'm joking. Really.

Hear all about it

What a news day. Seriously, if I were still a reporter, I'd so want to be in DC just going after the news coming out of the Capitol (though a Washington Post reporter recently said after covering a president having an affair with a thong-wearing intern, everything else was rather anticlimatic). But still, wow, what a day.

First Scooter Libby, whom no one has ever heard of before, has been indicted in Plamegate, but Special Prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald isn't saying if anyone else might soon join Libby. In other words, Bush's brain can't relax. Meanwhile, Valerie Plame is out of a job.

Second, bye bye Harriet. There are any number of reasons why she withdrew from consideration, and at least the White House is white-washing Miers' lack of qualifications, choosing instead to follow the exit strategy proposed last week by Charles Krauthammer. I do feel sorry for Harriet. She was thrown into the fray, so obviously in over her head, and the President did her loyalty and friendship no favors by keeping her as long as he did. Now it's a question of who's going to sit in for the murder boards next. In the meantime, may I suggest Patrick Fitzgerald?

The President's Very Bad Week (tm) continued, when the grim milestone of 2,000 dead Americans in Iraq was reached. If you're curious, here is the Iraq body count.

Jeb Bush, who unlike his brother, is a pro at the hurricane thing, had his hands full this week with Wilma. Meanwhile, Newsweek took forecasters to task for their hurricane coverage. All this, while sad sap Nicholas Cage takes to the airwaves in The Weatherman; just how many movies a year does that guy make, huh?

Hail to the chief!

Some of you already know "Commander-in-Chief" is my new favorite show, mostly because it's pure fantasy and I'm also a feminist at heart who can't believe Pakistan has had a female leader before us. Anyway, The Nation has a commentary on the show over here that sums up my feelings entirely:

... President Allen is sending in the Navy to rescue a Nigerian woman scheduled to be stoned for sex out of wedlock, sending in the Air Force to restore democracy to an unnamed Latin American country by threatening to destroy its coca crop, and using her summit meeting with the arrogant and sexist Russian president to win freedom for imprisoned dissident journalists. Can a woman be tough enough to lead the free world? Take that, misogynists and drug lords and enemies of free speech! In future episodes Mac will capture Osama bin Laden, rewrite the Iraqi Constitution and raise SAT scores by 75 points--all while dealing with a sullen teenage daughter who wishes Pat Buchanan had her mother's job.

High exposure

Eigar isn't Everest, but still Richard Bangs' expedition looks interesting, because unlike Everest -- which I have never come close to seeing -- I have been to the Matterhorn and Jungfrau and so Eigar doesn't seem to be as distant a dream as Everest.

Rec

I thought I'd mention the Washington Post has politics chats at 11 am ET M-F, which are very illuminating and interesting. If you can't make the actual chat -- which can be slow -- do what I do: read the transcripts. I also like the advice chats -- relationships, career, financial, auto -- and of course, it's nice to see the reporters on feature stories being made available. Lately, because of this feature, I find myself spending more time at the Post than the NYT -- especially since the Post seems to really be capitalizing on the web and offering *more* for free than the NYT, which now charges to read columnists. Not sure Maureen Dowd is worth $50/year. Maybe Friedman, but not sure about Dowd.

Proposition 2

Very Red State is having its referendum on banning gay marriage in two weeks. I'm not sure I'll be able to vote against it, having been completely out of it, thus forgetting to apply for my absentee ballot. I know the proposition will pass and I'll be like one of 10 people in the entire state who thinks banning gay marriage is a Very Bad Thing (tm). It's not so much that I'm for gay marriage, but rather I'm strongly against the constitutional amendment.

I find it disheartening that people think it's okay to disenfranchise an entire section of our population. I find it sad that people think it's okay to deny productive, good people equal rights. I also don't buy the whole 'sanctity of marriage' argument because for one, you can't blame people who can't get married for the fact that 50 percent of marriages end in divorce. Unless heterosexual marriages start falling apart the very minute two men or two women are allowed to legalize their commitment to each other, I'm going to remain skeptical of this particular argument -- especially as J. Lo and Britney Spears seem free to marry and divorce as often as the seasons change and Dr. James Dobson doesn't seem to care.

And let's be frank. Unless you're gay, this issue has very little bearing on your personal life. If someone can give me one good and profound reason why two men getting married will RUIN their lives forever and ever, well, I'm listening. Heck, I can't even think of a good or bad reason -- unless you're related to me or a friend -- how a heterosexual marriage affects my life. Even if one has strong religious convictions on certain issues, that does not make it RIGHT to codify discrimination into a document that spells out inalienable rights. I find it appalling and I wish more people would as well.

Politika

I haven't had much to say about the shennagins besetting the Republican Party lately because a) I've been busy and b) GO HOME TEAM! But now that I have a few minutes, oh my God, WHERE TO START? So, by category:

Things that make you go HEM...

Did you know Harriet Miers has a blog? Me either. Poor Harriet -- she got completely eviscretated by Slate today, including a psycho-analysis on her finances and another questionnaire she ought to fill out, given the mess she made of the first (and doesn't Leahy and Spector's letter sound just a bit like a teacher asking a student to re-do their homework? I thought so). And what does it say about Miers when even reliable Bush-cheerleader, the Wall Street Journal, calls the nomination "a blunder of the first order"?

Mugging for the cameras...

Tom DeLay was arrested in court today and you'd think it'd be a Very Awful Day for Mr. DeLay, but his Harris County mug shot says he's having a good old time. I don't get what he's in trouble for (last I heard, being a bully isn't against the law), but if he does end up in jail, I bet that smile runs away from his face real quick.

Playing the Plame game

Looks like Rove and Libby are in a heap of trouble, maybe Cheney too (but I suspect that's wishful thinking on the part of many, many people). I get allegedly leaking classified information is what they're all under scrutiny for, but I'm still confused about what Judith Miller's role (non-role?) is in all of this. The NY Times talks about it here, and Judith Miller continues to be obscure over here; I bet Clinton's wishing he had a Judy Miller on his side during Monica-gate. Meanwhile, special prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald has set up his own website here, but what it all means, I couldn't tell you.

I hear rumbling that Frist is in trouble too for some Martha Stewartesque deal, and here's Senator Judd (R-NH) getting richer. Have I missed anything?

For once, the Democrats are doing the right thing and keeping their mouth shut. To quote Napoloen, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."

This is how a heart breaks

I was going through my old writing notebook from a few years ago and I found the following sentence written in the margins: "The hardest part about breaking up is getting your stuff back." I think someone in my writing group actually said it and I merely recorded it prosperity. I've always been meaning to write a story with that as the opening line, though, but I've never quite gotten around to it.

What I'm learning is that really, the hardest part is moving on and letting go and not necessarily in that order either, nor do I believe it's the same thing. You can move on, but still be emotionally attached to the idea of a person, or you can let go of a person, but still be emotionally attached to the relationship you shared, which makes it difficult to form new ones. Plus, it's all easier said than done. I admire people who can just put themselves out there within days and think twice. I unfortunately have a nasty habit of thinking twice, and then thinking that over twice, and before you know it, I've gone nuts and in turn, have driven most of my RL friends nuts in the process.

But I think there comes a time, a moment, a person, and you realize that yes, it's okay to let go/move on and that it's time to stop second guessing what's happening to you, around you. So it took me a year to get my metaphorical 'stuff' back, and oh boy, did it suck along the way -- so much so that one of these days I'm going to write a book: "How Seema Got Her Stuff Back." In the meantime, the whole unconditional, unemotional move-on/let go feels awfully good. Thanks all for being
there.

p.s. Go Home Team!

Defeat, from the jaws of victory

Nothing like 2 outs, 2 strikes, top of the 9th and then comes Pujols, with a home run to take away the two-run advantage of the Home Team. So disappointing. Seriously. I honestly thought we had it, but alas. I have spent SO much time at the ball park this week that I'm at this point 110% emotionally invested in the outcome and anything other than victory is unthinkable. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Play ball!

I was so wound up from yesterday's ball game that I neglected to come on and blog last night. Admit it, you all missed me TERRIBLY. Anyway, the game was going along just fine until the ninth inning, when suddenly everything seemed to go to POT and there were runners on base, including one at third and I had nightmares of a tied-up score. I think my exact thoughts were, "OH MY GOD, WE ARE GOING TO BE HERE ALL NIGHT." But Home Team didn't let me down, and they tagged the guy at third out at home plate, and despite some controversy, managed to keep their cool. And then came the MOST SPECATULAR DOUBLE PLAY EVER and the game was over and we were up by 3. I nearly fell out of my chair, and then, I was on my feet with the rest of the crowd, cheering and clapping.

Will tonight be the clincher? I'm almost too stressed to watch.

Oh, I should mention: there's nothing cuter than the Kiss Cam zeroing in on Former President Bush and Barbara Bush. TWICE they've been zinged by the Kiss Cam. Such good sports.

Yo, Jerie!

2-1.

I'm just sayin' ;-)

Game day

I had a "Sports Night" marathon last night and rewatched my favorite episodes -- mainly the last five of the first season. When I watch those eps, especially "What Kind of Day Has It Been", I realize just how underutilized the wonderful Felicity Huffman is on "Desperate Housewives." The break-up with Gordon ranks right up there with Sally Field losing it all in "Steel Magnolias" as one of the few scenes that gets me right there every single time I watch that ep.

I may have posted this snippet of dialogue before, but I love it THAT MUCH, because it's one of the most brilliant moments of the show, and possibly Felicity Huffman's finest moment on that show:

DANA: I think I'm funnier than you've given me credit for being in the past.

GORDON: Here's what I've been thinking the past few days--

DANA: I'm just saying that if you're calling off the engagement because you don't think I'm funny enough--

GORDON: Would you stop.

DANA: Are you angry right now?

GORDON: Dana--

DANA: Are you mad at me?

GORDON: I'm not--

DANA: First you spend six months making me feel guilty for liking my job, then propose to me, two days later you tell me that you've slept with the woman who wants my job, I say fine. I say "fine". Six days after that you tell me you want to break off the engagement? Here's the thing: I think only one of us should be angry at a time, and I have a hunch it's gonna be me.

GORDON: I think you're hung up on Casey.

DANA: That's what this is about?

GORDON: That's what this is about.

DANA: I'm not.

GORDON: You are, and you don't cover it well.

DANA: This is a cheap excuse to get out of marrying me which you never wanted to do in the third place, and the only reason you proposed in the second place was out of guilt for having slept with Sally in the first place.


GORDON: You say fine? I sleep with Sally and you say "fine"? Casey sleeps with Sally and that's a different story.


DANA: You're calling off the engagement cause I wasn't mad enough when I found out you were sleeping around? How 'bout if we do the whole thing again and I just beat the living crap outa you?

::sigh:: I miss Sorkin.

Friday round-up

I usually watch the "Today" show every morning as I'm getting ready for work, but I'm rather bummed I missed this segment. However, I did catch the Duggar family talking to Katie and Matt about their sixteenth child.

Check out modest swimwear out there. One question: if you wear something like this, why on earth would you need a slimming version?

In other news, I have tickets to both of this weekend's home games. GO HOME TEAM!

Big Yellow Taxi

I went on my first taxi ride in just about forever yesterday, and I should apologize since my headline is misleading: the taxi was actually green. I was supposed to take a cab from the airport over to my final destination, ie the office. I should have figured out something was up when I told the cabby the address. He kind of gave me a blank look and repeated the street name over and over again.

Luckily, I had written down directions from the airport to the office before leaving in the morning so I directed the cabby down the street and asked him to get on the highway heading west. For reasons still unknown to be, he decided to get on going EAST. And when I pointed this out to him, he agreed to turn around, but seemingly was oblivious to the CONSTRUCTION in the city (Big City to the North can certainly give Sweat Sock City a run for the money when it comes to moving major arteries around!). Anyway, cabby gets off the highway as I ask him to, but discovers he cannot go west. Excellent. So we end up going further East ("Look, kids, SKYLINE!") and finally, get off and manage to get on a west-bound ramp. OH THE DRAMA.

Then I tell the cabby expressly, "I want to get off at exit 39 and oh, by the way, that over there is the building I want to go to." There was plenty of pointing to go along with the verbal -- which is an improvement over many situations, as my brother says to me quite often, "Use your WORDS." Anyway, cabby somehow misses exit 39 and we end up on another highway. I say, "TURN AROUND. WE ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY." Does he turn around? NO. Meanwhile, I'm starting to panic. I'm due for a meeting at noon (lunch beforehand), and I had planned my trip with an ample cushion for exactly this kind of situation. But, pray tell me, how does a normal 15-minute car trip suddenly turn into an HOUR?

So while I was watching my cushion of time evaporate, the cabby finally realized we had to turn around. I happened to look at the meter by then, which was dismally climbing up with every wrong turn. And what do you know, once we're back on the right highway, he gets off at the WRONG EXIT. We then proceed to drive around in a shopping center for 10 minutes, all the while my office building is in plain sight, and YET THE CABBY CANNOT TAKE ME THERE. Did I mention it was a $2 charge just to sit in the taxi? That every quarter mile is 40 cents? OH THE BILL.

Finally, he flagged down a fireman who directed us to another road that would take me to my office. The cabby finally deposited me in front of the building, and I honestly felt like stiffing him his tip because all of his errors ended up costing me $10 to $20 in additional cab fare. However, I was just eager to get out of the car and up into the meeting, so I did the nice thing and gave him a nominal tip. I made it into the lunch with about 15 minutes to spare. Oh! I forgot to mention the cabby gave me his card so I could call him when I needed a ride back. Thanks, but no thanks. The rest of my business trip, thankfully, was cab-free.

You gotta believe

I was lucky enough to score a pair of tickets to the division championships on Sunday, and after eighteen innings over SIX HOURS, the home team ran away with the win and is now headed to the play-offs (and hopefully, I will get lucky with tickets there too). I made two predictions during the course of the game: one, when the team was losing 6-1, I said there would be a 9th inning rally (I was early by one inning, but the score did tie up in the 9th), and that it would be all over by 6 pm. Regardless, Best. Ball. Game. Ever. People, this could be LOVE.

But I admit, during the first eight extremely dismal innings and as the pitchers kept getting rotated out, the following bit of dialogue from the "Sports Night" pilot popped into my head.

<Dan: Lambeau, 3-com and Foxboro. Casey's got Tampa Bay and the mighty Bengals of Cincinnati.

Dana: What's in Cincinnati?

Dan: Well, the mighty Bengals, for one thing.

Dana: Ah.

Casey: They're going to cut Santori.

Natalie: The place-kicker?

Casey: He's made eight field goal attempts in three games and has connected on a grand total of none of them.

Elliot: Oh, I've met him, he's a good guy.

Casey: He can't kick.

Natalie: He is a good guy.

Casey: He can't kick.

Natalie: He'll get picked up by another team.

Casey: No, he won't. You know why?

Elliot: Why?

Casey: 'Cause he can't kick.

Dana: All right, commercial one, then on to the dugout report.

Elliot: I saw him kick in practice.

Casey: At this level, they pretty much want you to be able to kick in a game.

Home Team, I totally apologize for doubting you. You can hit and you can pitch.

On the town

Last night, we hit the town for dinner and drinks, and for most of us, it was the first time in a very, very long time we were going to take in the bar scene. The night started off classy enough, with tapas and sangria. And then there was the unfortunate incident when I bit down on a RAZOR BLADE -- nestled nicely in some vegetable pilaf. We managed to get the pilaf knocked off our bill and an extra pitcher of sangria for the table, but still. Dinner was pretty much over at that point (though they were all amazed that I kept munching away on the marinated mushrooms after the razor blade came to light).

We then decided to be bold and head downtown. The kindest thing one can say about Sweat Sock City downtown at night is that it's not very... alive. Sweat Sock City downtown's waking moments are literally between 5 am on Monday morning to 6 pm Friday evening, and even by 3 pm, most places have shut down for the day. It's hard to find somewhere to eat dinner there, I mean, hard for a major metropolitan area. Anyway, so off we went, enduring all sorts of parking hijinks, and we ended up in a bar.

Where the waiter actually laughed at me when I asked him what was non-alcoholic on the menu. In the end, I got water.

We then decided to head up one block to Main Street to check out the sights, and OH THOSE SIGHTS, sights we never expected and hope never to sight again. Honestly, not to put too fine a point on it, it was like we had suddenly entered a meat market of the type we had never seen before. Despite the fact it was freezing out, there were women barely clothed. What was the most astonishing fact were the skirts -- we're talking two inches of material at best; the best analogy I can think of are those skirted swimsuits you see at the beach -- but of the shorter variety. While we were gawking, one woman's 'skirt' flew up and revealed her matching thong underwear; we suddenly knew way more about this random woman's physique than we -- or even she -- had ever wanted to know. In addition to the preponderance of teeny tiny should not be legal skirts, there were a lot of strapless and plunging tops that seemed to defy gravity.

The whole time, I was hunched over, arms crossed against my chest, thinking, "OH MY GOD, AREN'T YOU PEOPLE FREEZING?" I grew up in New England, so warmth ALWAYS trumps high fashion. Plus, in cropped pants and a nice blouse, I was way overdressed for this scene, as were the rest of my friends. We ended up checking out one bar that didn't have a cover, spent about three minutes in it, and left. The music was pulsating, kind of like a audio strobe light, the air was thick and smoky, and just so many people everywhere. We escaped to the coffee shop next door, and the air felt so clean, and it was just so nice to be away from that music.

We ended up leaving shortly after. I don't think we spent more than two hours and we all left feeling incredibly... icky. I'm not sure what people see in the bar scene because the type of language, the attire, the attitudes and behaviors were so incredibly off-putting to me. I mentioned to my cousin that maybe I'm getting too old for this kind of thing, and she corrected me gently. "We're too classy, you mean," she said.

All in all though, we had a good time, and there was plenty to laugh at -- it took us a long, long time to get over the barely butt-covering skirts -- as the people watching opportunities were excellent. But really, as we were walking back to the car, and the wind was picking up, all I wanted to do was the hand all the women a nice big overcoat.

Cupcake time!

Bloggity might even be more sparse than usual this weekend due to the arrival of a college friend this afternoon. I can assure you, that though we have a jam-packed weekend of Stuff (tm) to do, there will be time for cupcakes. And for my Sweat Sock City friends, you will finally have proof that, yes, I have always been this neurotic.

TV Watch

The new season has started, and while I'm still hanging on to some favorites from last year like "Desperate Housewives", "Without a Trace" and "CSI", I've also added two new shows: "Commander in Chief" and "How I Met Your Mother."

The latter is such a cute little comedy. It's funny, the acting is very good, and I actually laugh at some of the gags. And I have a very low threshold when it comes to obscene humor, so I'd daresay this comedy might actually even be family-safe, since nothing that's happened in the two episodes I've seen has made me want to run and dunk my head into a vat of bleach.

I like "Commander in Chief" for acting and yes, the set-up is schmaltzy, and there's a generous dose of suspension of disbelief required for key story points, but the presence of Geena Davis just transcends it all and I'm not even a Davis fan. I also think Kyle Secor, as the First Gentleman, is absolutely adorable. Plus, it's more of a political intrigue, rather than issues-based -- which got old real quick with "The West Wing" -- and that appeals to me.

Shows I've dumped this year: "NCIS", "ER", "The West Wing", "The Apprentice", and "The Amazing Race" (family edition and racing across the US not doing it for me; I liked this show because, y'know, it featured people bungee jumping off cliffs in New Zealand or going on a safari in Kenya).

What is the world coming to?

So, just days after the birth of little Superman Cage, along comes the news Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are expecting. You know, this creeps me out in so many ways, and the scary thing is -- and I'll admit to you, dear readers, because you are kind and understanding people -- at one time, I had the MOST ENORMOUS CRUSH ON TOM CRUISE.

Listen, you would have crushed too, if you were 10 years old, and you went to the movies, and there was "Top Gun", with planes buzzing up against a cloudless blue sky, and in the middle of all that flying was Tom Cruise, who apparently taught George W. Bush how to swagger, and who also, singlehandedly resurrected the Righteous Brothers into the best pick up line ever. Those dimples! That buzz cut! That volley ball scene! That SHIRTLESS, SWEAT-GLISTENING, VOLLEYBALL SCENE! Boys of summer, indeed.

My crush on Tom Cruise lasted throughout college, even though some people pointed out very helpful that despite those dimples, twinkling eyes, and blindingly white smile, he was short. Which I always thought was incredibly insane thing to say. First, Tom Cruise, while short, will always be taller than yours truly. And second, what difference does it make if he's short? It's not like I was ever going to meet him and run off with him. Because a) he had a wife at the time, and b) I was too young for him.

Eh, scratch that last one.

I'm just saying, that before the whole couch-jumping, chest-thumping, crazy-in-love Tom emerged, I kind of crushed on the guy and while it's been many years since I've felt quite the same about the man, I do feel nostalgic for the non-crazy, nice guy action hero I'd gotten used to. Tom Cruise, still short, but now weird as heck too. Ah for those days of yore, when celluloid fantasy still trumped the flesh and blood.

It just goes to show

While I'm so underwhelmed by the SCOTUS nominee, I have been trolling right-wing blogs to get an idea of what the feeling is out there. And this thread at Red State totally amused me as it goes to prove that no matter how dignified the debate is or how serious the subject, all discussions eventually lead to one person calling another a Nazi. My one word on this: really, would Bush pick someone who wasn't a conservative? Would he really give the left a gift in Harriet Mier? I don't think so. Still, the right's apoplexy is rather fun to read.

Things that make you go huh

So the president just went and nominated a random somebody for the Supreme Court and I'm surprised at just how little I care. I've made my peace with the whole "let's overturn Roe" movement, and even though I totally don't agree, I understand that there are people out there who think abortion is an issue of greater consequence to the American public than the rebuilding of the Gulf Coast, the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, health care benefits, poverty, and alternative minimum tax -- just to name a few.

Also, just when I thought celebrity baby names couldn't get weirder than Apple, along comes Nicholas Cage to prove me completely wrong. Meet Kal-El. Now there's a kid who is most certainly going to get beat up in middle school. Let's hope he inherited the superhuman genetic make-up of his Krypton ancestors.

Two random things

I'm a firm believer that when you can't take something anymore, suddenly the solution magically arrives and voila, problem fixed. Of course, that doesn't mean things don't suck in the meantime. But I think getting through the suckiness makes one appreciate the unsucky times that much more.

Second, Mozilla keeled over and died this morning, which means I'm using the Spawn of Microsoft, IE. I MISS MY TABS! How do you IE users browse without TABS? It's so uncivilized. I'm curious as to whether the new version of IE will incorporate tabs. It took some getting used to, but multiple windows are hard -- and annoying -- to deal with.

Coffee break

I tried to blog several times over the last couple of days, including the latest misadventures in the kitchen (think: explosion) and blogger kept eating my posts. Bad Blogger, no biscuit! Anyway, I'm still picking bits of things out of the carpet and I have cabinets to wipe down, and the blouse that unfortunately got assaulted during the explosion -- happened to be drying on the back of a dining room chair, and then kerplooey happened and a blouse that was clean a few seconds before, well, not so much now. I'm thinking those cooking lessons I was considering a few months ago would be a very good idea.

Lesson 101: Cooking soup without it exploding EVERYWHERE*

*I'm just going to leave that to your imagination, as I've written the post up several times, and blogger just seems to keel over and die every time I try to publish it. I think the description is pretty self-explanatory.